


So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep

by thefooliam



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 09:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5962597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefooliam/pseuds/thefooliam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brittany struggles to get Santana to sleep after Will’s party. </p><p>Post 6x06 "What The World Needs Now"</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close That Your Eyes Close As I Fall Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Pablo Neruda’s Love Sonnet XVII

She’s got that reluctant sleepiness written across her face, the kind that Brittany knows means she’ll be listening to slurred nonsense until the early hours of the morning while Santana fights off rest. It’s the kind of sleepiness that Brittany knows stems from wanting to chase away bad dreams.

She’s felt the worry in her shoulders and the arch of her back all day. The smile that pulled on Santana’s lips all evening was good enough to fool their friends but never _her_.

Brittany can tell that seeing her grandmother again has unsettled her more than she lets on, but she hasn’t mentioned it. She’s tried to talk to her about it, to give her an opening to get everything off her chest if she wants to, but Santana played it down like Brittany was the one who needed consoling.

Now, as Brittany watches Santana strip down to cute little panties (with light blue hearts that _no one_ would ever believe were hers) and reach for a soft worn t-shirt that Brittany tossed on the armchair the night before, she can see those worries in the tired creases around her eyes. Her shoulders slump as she sinks to sit at the bottom of the bed, and starts to remove the make from her face as a sigh flutters past her lips.

Brittany can’t help but to crawl up behind her and kiss the soft apple of her cheek, then. Santana sighs and Brittany lets her nose stroke over her jaw before kissing her again, right against the pulse in her neck.

“Sleepy?” she doesn’t really ask as she lets her lips linger near Santana’s ear. She squeezes at a soft waist before stroking up cool arms to take Santana’s hands from their task. A pleased hum leaves her mouth when Brittany takes the make-up wipe from her and urges her onto her back, against the pillows. She relaxes quickly and Brittany takes a moment to admire her features before silently using the wipe to clean her face for her.

Soft sighs leave Santana quietly as Brittany sweeps the soft cloth over her nose, her lips, the perfect curve of her jaw. Her eyes flicker beneath their lids desperate to sleep and Brittany smiles with complete infatuation.

“Go to sleep,” she murmurs sweetly, their noses pressing together as she tosses the wipe aside.

A hand shamelessly grips at her bare thigh before it drifts over her sleep shorts and beneath her cami to find Brittany’s skin.

“’s fine.” she mumbles scratching lazily, the barest hint of a smug smirk on her lips. Brittany momentarily finds it hard to concentrate. “I’m not tired and—and we gotta figure out the guest list.”

Her words make Brittany smile with the same overwhelming excitement and happiness that any mention of their wedding fills her with. Her nose strokes over Santana’s close eyelids as she soothes a hand up and down her arm.

“But you need to sleep,” she breathes until Santana’s eyelids flutter open and her lips fall into a happy, lazy smile. It makes Brittany grin in response and peck a kiss to her lips, just because she can. “The guest list can wait until the morning.”

She keeps kissing her because it makes Santana’s smile more, her fingers pressing into the base of her back. She keeps kissing her because it makes Santana happy and that’s her favorite thing of all.

“But Artie…” Santana tries half-heartedly until Brittany silences her with the longest kiss she can. She trails off and Brittany nudges their noses together, holding her as close as possible.

“I’m not marrying Artie,” she comments, loving Santana’s look of distaste before she continues. “I’m marrying you and _you’re_ exhausted. _Go. to. sleep_.”

Her sleepy groan is the cutest thing Brittany’s ever heard and Santana pouts at her unhappily as she stretches out underneath her, toes curling in a way that reminds Brittany of something entirely inappropriate right now. She bites away a smirk anyway and watches as her fiancee fusses in frustration and pulls her impossibly closer.

“But… Britt Britt,” she tries weakly, brow creased with unspoken worry until Brittany cups her cheek and centers her focus.

She kisses her softly before speaking.

“I know you’re upset,” she whispers and Santana sighs at the knowingness in Brittany’s voice. Her face falls into uncontrollable disappointment like it had on that stage and Brittany’s thumb starts stroking it away without pause. “I know that, as much as you want to believe you’re okay with everything, you’re still really sad about it.”

“Britt—”

“But I’m going to be your wife,” Brittany cuts through the argument before it can even leave her lips and kisses her quickly before smiling against her lips. “So please stop arguing with me and let me look after you.”

Santana looks up at her through suddenly sad eyes.

“I love you,” she whispers and sighs in relief when Brittany utters it back without pause not a second later.

Her eyes close for a moment, relishing the feel of Brittany’s hands on her face and her nose tucked perfectly against her own, before she begins speaking.

“I’m scared I’ll have bad dreams,” she admits in a barely there whisper. Brittany hears her swallow thickly. “Like last time.”

Brittany looks at her knowingly, perfectly aware of Santana’s history of having bad dreams when something’s worrying her. She used to get them all the time sometimes, would wake up sweating and gasping for breath like something dark and scary was gripping at her chest.

When they met, at Cheerios camp between Junior High and Freshman year, Brittany hated listening to her whimper and cry out. She would always stay up to make sure she settled down, even though she didn’t even really know her. Everyone else would just be mad at her for waking them up but Brittany never was. Later, during team sleepovers at hotels during competitions, she would always stay up after and tell Santana silly stories to calm her down.

Weirdly, the memory makes her smile and she kisses Santana briefly before tugging the covers over them and turning out the light before pulling Santana comfortably into her arms. Santana’s head fits against her chest and she looks down at her as Santana wraps an arm around her body. Brittany’s hand continues to stroke her cheek and Santana softens, pressing into her palm.

“Did I ever tell you about the day I knew I’d love you forever?” Brittany asks until Santana looks up at her quizzically. She shakes her head and Brittany takes the time to stroke from her cheek to the soft hairs at the back of her neck that no one knows about. “Well,” she starts. “You remember that day in Freshman year when we had English and I got lost while Ms. Bauer was reading _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , and then she asked me a question and everyone started laughing at me when I didn’t know the answer?”

Santana stares at her calmly and swallows before speaking. “Yeah, I remember.”

“You remember how in the next class I got lost again and I was so scared of everyone laughing at me?” Santana gives her the subtlest of nods. “But then you wrote down the answer on a tiny slip of paper and you snuck it over to me—and I still don’t know how you snuck it over to me without anyone noticing—but then you made me come home with you.” Brittany grins. “You made me come home with you and you sat me at your desk and you helped me read the whole book and explained it all to me when I didn’t get it, just so that nobody could laugh at me next class. You remember?”

Santana looks up at her in awe.

“That’s the day you knew you’d love me forever?” she asks like she can’t actually believe the words are the truth.

Brittany shrugs like she doesn’t believe anything else. “You didn’t make me feel stupid,” she explains. “You’re still the only person who’s never made me feel stupid.”

Santana cups her cheek before pressing a warm hand against Brittany’s chest, right over her heart.

“Britt…” she breathes.

It only makes Brittany blush more.

“And did I ever tell you about the day that I knew you loved me?” she carries on quickly, like it’s just another normal conversation.

Santana chuckles and smiles. “Does it have anything to do with a locker, by any chance?”

Brittany smiles smugly and shakes her head. “No,” she says. “It was right here, in my bed, the first time you ever slept over.”

Santana’s eyes widen in wonder and awe again so Brittany just goes on. She bites her lip in thought before releasing it.

“I was so worried you’d have bad dreams that night—because you always did at camp and at competitions and birthday sleepovers—and you always looked so scared to go back to sleep…” She trails off and scratches at the back of Santana’s neck. “I waited for hours just in case it happened— and it must have been about 1am—but you started whimpering like all the other times and you just sounded so _terrified_ , you know?” Santana doesn’t say anything; she just keeps looking at her with sleepy eyes. “I didn’t know what to do and everyone always said that we should never wake you because it would make it worse but you just sounded so sad and I couldn’t help it.”

Santana gulps and Brittany bites her lip in thought again before speaking.

“I put my hand,” she goes on. “on your back—right between your shoulder blades—without even thinking about it. I did it and then I was just so worried I was going to make it worse but then I could feel your heartbeat.”

Her eyes narrow and Santana looks at her curiously as Brittany’s hand drifts down her back to rest at the same place she describes, right between her shoulder blades. It still feels exactly the same and, after all these years, it’s the most reassuring thing in the world.

“It went from really fast to just… not fast,” she explains. “It was calm, I guess. Still. And then the whimpering stopped. You stopped so I took my hand away but then you turned over and you grabbed it back.”

Santana takes a steadying breath in as Brittany smiles and returns to stroking her cheek.

“You held my hand the whole night and I didn’t sleep _at all_ ,” she laughs softly at that. “I’d never felt more needed than in that moment and I knew… deep down I knew that it meant something but I didn’t let myself believe it.” She trails off for a moment before letting out a laugh. “But then, a couple weeks later, we went for a competition in Iowa, and Quinn tried to wake you up and ended up getting punched in the face and then I really knew. I knew that I was different to you and now I know that you loved me. You loved me even then and you trusted me to protect you.”

Santana’s eyes are brimming with tears when she finally finishes. Her hand sweeps up to grip at Brittany’s neck to urge her to her mouth.

“Britt…” she sighs against her lips before kissing her more gently than she has in such a long time. “I loved you from the minute I met you,” she breathes between kisses. “From that first time you stayed up and told me stories. Right from then and I didn’t even know it.”

She kisses her deeper then and Brittany lets her until she can’t anymore and pulls back to rest their foreheads together, hands firmly on her face.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to worry about the bad dreams. I can handle the bad dreams,” She sweeps her thumb over Santana’s cheeks as her eyes flutter in exhaustion now that she’s got the reassurance she needs. “I’ll look after you because that’s what we do, right? We take away all that bad stuff.”

Santana nods and Brittany tugs her until she’s wrapped tightly in her arms, fingers soothingly stroking up and down her back.

“Right,” Santana mumbles, her mouth pressed soothingly to Brittany’s pulse point.

Brittany smiles into her hair. “Good,” she whispers and kisses her hairline. “Now go to sleep.”

Except by the time she looks down, Santana’s breath has already evened out to a slow and gentle pace. Her body has gone soft and her hand clutches in the fabric at the back of Brittany’s t-shirt to make sure she stays. Her lips are already parted like they do when she’s really tired and, as Brittany presses her hand, right there, between her shoulder blades, she feels her steady heartbeat and knows.

She’s got nothing to worry about.

The bad dreams have already been chased away.

 


End file.
